


In Good Faith

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, As is Antonin, Best Friends With Ginny and Harry, Blood Magic, Child Abuse, Dark Grey Hermione, Dark Times Are To Come, Do Not Expect Hermione to be absolutely good, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Grey Malfoys, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Molly LOVES Hermione Because She Helps Her Children, Muggle Adoption, Post-War, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Ron is Clueless but Harmless, Voldemort is Obsessed with Hermione, Wizard Classism, Wizard Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: Summary: Six year old Hermione, in a bid to escape a frightening situation, ends up in Diagon Alley. With the help of the kind Professor Snape, Hermione manages to spend at least one night in a warm bed. All would be well if Draco had not found her and demanded that she be his sister. The Malfoy's adopt her and change her name to Adhara Hermione, and she becomes favoured Niece to Bellatrix Lestrange... The older she becomes the more male attention she receives.Triggers: Implied!Peodophilia, Obsessive behaviour, racism, bullying, DARK!GREY Hermione.Pairings: Hermione/Multi; Harry/Ginny, (I may as well make this easy, and say Harry will be with Ginny in any of my stories whether he be Harry Snape or Harry Potter or Harry Malfoy), Ron/Luna, Daphne Greengrass/Marcus Flint (one-sided). Daphne Greengrass/Anthony Goldstein (requited). Others to be decided...





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> **Fancast:**
> 
> **Young Lucius** : Nick Rhodes
> 
> **Young Narcissa** : Dakota Blue Richards
> 
> **Older Lucius** : Jason Isaacs
> 
> **Older Narcissa** : Joely Richardson
> 
> **Draco Malfoy** : Tom Felton
> 
> **Fenrir Greyback** : Idris Elba
> 
> **Kingsley Shacklebolt** : Paterson Joseph
> 
> **Andromeda Tonks** : Julia Sawalha
> 
> **Remus Lupin** : Ewan McGregor
> 
> **Sirius Black** : Richard Armitage
> 
> **Handsome Voldemort** : Aiden Turner
> 
> **Antonin Dolohov** : Colin Farrell
> 
> **Rodolphus Lestrange** : Rufus Sewell
> 
> **Rabastan Lestrange** : Tom Hiddleston
> 
> **Bellatrix Lestrange** : Helena Bonham-Carter
> 
> **Bellatrix Black** : Young Helena Bonham-Carter
> 
> **Severus Snape** : Alan *sniff* Rickman
> 
> **Finbar Avery** : Gabriel Byrne
> 
> **Blaise Zabini** : Royce Pierreson
> 
> **Adrian Pucey** : Sendhil Ramanurthy
> 
> Others to be announced as and when I can put faces to names ...
> 
>   

**AN** : JK Rowlings world - I am so pleased she allows us to expand it with our own fertile imaginations. Thank you, JK Rowling x I must also thank  **Vino Amore**  for going through it first of all.

 

* * *

**In Good Faith**

* * *

**Lost**

She was 6 today. The outside of the house looked like a rainbow vomited all over it; brightly hued streamers littered the usually pristine garden. Glittery signs hung up, proclaimed a big, round, friendly 6 in green and silver, red and pink, and yellow and purple. Hermione loved the green and silver balloons the best and snuck all the green and silver stuff to her room with the intent to ask her daddy to decorate the room with those colours.

Whilst not a popular girl at school Hermione managed to get a worthwhile gathering to help her usher in the new birthday. Tables were placed outside as it was still fairly warm for mid September. Ribbons hung in loops to the table legs. Mountains of triangle cut sandwiches of tuna mayonnaise, egg and cress, cheese and tomato, chicken and cucumber. Sausage rolls. Pineapple and cheese on toothpicks. Bowls of lettuce, tomato and grated carrot next to squeezable tubes of salad crème, mayonnaise, and ketchup – these were 6 year old kids – it was rather amusing to see children mix them all together. Pizza slices, cheesy flavoured nibbles. Bottles of diet fizzy drinks. Jugs of water and paper cups, plates, straws and napkins were already littering the suburban Cheltenham back garden.

Not to mention the other table filled with sweet delicacies. Cupcakes with different neon coloured icing. Some with glittery gold fairies on the top. Others with He-Man characters, supposedly for the boys, but Helen Granger was delighted to note that to kids – cake was cake and she won a bet with her mother, Maria. Butterfly cakes with cream and jam dusted with icing sugar. Lemon meringue pies. Fondant fancies. In the centre of the table was a ginormous cake in the shape of the letter 6. The end was a Snakes head with friendly bulbous pink eyes, a red forked tongue laying flat on the plate, the back of the number was decorated in alternating red, black and purple triangles of different sizes layered to look like scales. The body eventually curled off, the number tapered into a pointed tail that, to the joy of the children, they could pick up to discover that it rattled with skittles.

Inside was Hermione's favourite flavour: Lemon. It was Hermione's job to open the cake that her father painstakingly made for her along with her best friend Steven. Steven stood shyly next to her holding her hand; looking so sweet in his black suit. Hermione wore a Tinkerbell's outfit – she refused to let Steven go. Steven refused to be let go by her.

Steven's mother was rich enough to film the entire show, Steven insisted so he could watch his future wife. He was 8 and he knew Hermione was his wife. It made his mother smile but also worry. Hermione was a genius child. It seemed all she had to do was read the basic mechanics and know what to do. Take her VCR for example. Even Steven found it difficult but in 3 minutes Hermione had managed to show everyone how to record programmes. How to film on their camera. That was just the start of her cleverness.

44 Vine Road was a five bedroom semi. One of the spare bedrooms held instruments that Hermione was more than proficient in. She could also work out the mathematics of dancing. Learning languages was never a problem: Alexander Granger joked that the motivation was that Hermione could then natter for any country. To many people, it would seem Hermione was a happy, popular, wonderful little girl.

Yet: The many children that were there would thank her for the party but would never invite her to theirs. Steven would. The mothers of the children will always gush and smile over how clever she must be but behind closed doors would breath a huge sigh of relief that their children were, thankfully, normal. The husbands would all slap Granger on the back and declare that there is only ten years to go before he had to worry about boyfriends – yet swore never to let their sons near the oddball.

The darkest thing of all was the little girl herself: Hermione Jean Granger. Dressed as Tinkerbell with the blonde pixie wig. Daintily eating a slice of Lemon Snake cake, sitting next to the only person she loved more than her parents also devouring the birthday cake. Steven called Hermione some sort of Superhero as she could do things. Certain things that exhilarated, frightened, and loved all at once.

Once she set a girls hair on fire. That truly worried poor Hermione. Terrified that she had caused permanent damage to the girl, she spent every day she could to make it up to the girl by running her every errand. However, the girl exploited that and got Hermione into more trouble. Trouble like stealing other children's lunch money to remain in this girls good graces. When Steven found out he told the girl, in no certain terms, to find some other slave.

However, she was so exhilarated on firework night last year that she clapped her hands at the end of the show and little blue balls of light floated in front of her: Like will o' the wisps, her father whispered in her ear, and went home and read Hermione her favourite fairy story: Beauty and the Beast before kissing his girl on the forehead. Hermione loved that night. Was the best in her whole life so far.

Frightened, Hermione was continually frightened since  _he_  showed up. An old college friend of her parents. Daryl Stubbs. A big, jolly sort of individual whom Hermione liked at first. He always bought her things whenever he visited. Once he purchased her a rabbit and she loved her bunny: Daisy, thinking of her father's kind friend every time Hermione petted her. Then, suddenly, another person showed up – it turned out Daisy belonged to Daryl's niece. So Hermione, devastated and sobbing, had to give her back to the original owner. A blonde haired princess Prima Donna in the making. Her father shouted at Daryl's irresponsibility over breaking his daughter's heart.

That was when Dear Daryl became Danger Daryl. Though he did purchase her proper bunny rabbits, fluffy ones – one as black as night the other as white as Snow, Hermione unimaginatively named them Soot and Snow, and adored them the same as Daisy. One day, her parents had asked Daryl to look after Hermione whilst her grandma had to be taken to the hospital. Eagerly, Daryl took charge of their lovely little girl. The moment her parents were out of the house he stood over her.

"Do you love the rabbits, Hermione?" he asked.

Silently, warily, Hermione nodded whilst hugging Snow. "I am going to put Snow to bed," she said. Daryl watched her from the open French doors as the little girl put the rabbit in her hutch and fed her a carrot. "There, she's tucked in. Want to watch a film? Daddy's got some of the best latest VHS."

"Hmm," Daryl tilted his head to the side, "how about first I read you a story. What is your favourite?" Hermione skipped happily up the stairs and found her Ladybird book set and gave Daryl Rumpelstiltskin and Beauty and the Beast. "There they are," she said as she hopped up on her small child chair that she loved.

"No," Daryl said sitting on the sofa, "why do you not sit next to me?"

Danger Daryl – Hermione called him from then on. She was certain his father's friend should not have had his hand  _there_... or hugged her... like  _that_. That was three months ago.

After the cake had been eaten, Daryl turned up, and walked over to her parents. Keeping his steely gaze on her. Sitting in the middle of reasonable pile of gifts Hermione found she was the happy owner of several new varie-hued, green dresses, a My Little Pony stables, some more wonderful books to read or be read out loud to her. Chronicles of Narnia, she squealed then realised who it was from, she locked eyes with Daryl. Gulping she held firm the giant hard backed, colour illustrated book, close to her chest like a shield. There were other gifts, some My Little Ponies, a Care Bear with a storm on his belly, and a last one which her father brought through the house. A bike! The one she wanted! Green, silver handles, snakes decorating the crossbars and white plastic basket at front and a little bell.

"This one is from your mother and I," said her daddy. "I am going to teach you to ride this, then we will work our way up to horses, sweetheart!"

Everyone oooh'd and aaah'd over the bike and Hermione hugged her father tight before kissing her mother on the cheek.

"After all, dear girl, you only have three years to earn your Cycle Proficiency Test, you like a head start."

"That's  _too_  much of a head start, daddy," Hermione smiled but jumped and down excitedly.

By the time 3 0'Clock rolled around many of the children were becoming tired so their parents thanked hers for a lovely time, yelled Happy Birthday one more time, before leaving in their gleaming cars. By 3:30pm the house was a littered mess. Daryl had stayed behind.

"Why don't I put the little fairy to bed for her nap and I will come back down to help you recover from hurricane Birthday, yeah?"

"Thanks mate," Alexander said. "Hermione is relatively easy to get to sleep."

Nervously, Hermione took Danger Daryl's hand upstairs. Once the door to her bedroom closed Hermione realised he was still with her. After removing the blonde wig finally allowing her wild bushy hair free, and had laid her little bag of gold glitter stars to work as Pixie Dust, Hermione told him.

"It's all right, I can go to sleep; you don't..."

"Oh nonsense, Hermione, why do we not play a game. Let's call it; 'Who can hug the longest?' hmm? Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"No, it does not," Hermione folded her arms and tried to side step the grown up but he moved with her. "I just want to go to sleep."

"Sleep? Why? There are so many other things we can do, Hermione, things only you and I can do... our little secret, if you will..."

Hermione froze on the spot. Not wanting to scream in case he tried to hurt her. No, what she wanted was a hiding place. Somewhere that he could not find her. Somewhere that she was safe. Closing her eyes, she wished in her imagination, to find that special some place. For some reason cobble stones, shops with differently dressed people, the scent of spices hung in the air. This was where she wanted to be. Please be real, she begged, I want to be there!

* * *

A crack woke her up and suddenly she was just where her mind made up. Cobble stoned walkways, shops with colourful fronts and awnings, weird but vibrantly dressed people. The noises though; chickens clucking, children running and parents yelling at them not to or they'd get hurt. Older children dressed just as fancifully, smiling, apple cheeked faces glowed with joy. Hermione would have loved it if she was not so small, shy and rather insignificant. It was drummed into her all day at school to never speak to strangers – they never told her that people her parents knew could also be frightening.

Still, she gulped, as she was accidentally, roughly pushed to the floor by a big brute of a boy. Teenaged. Red hair. Fang earring. Nope, she sighed, he looks too big and too cool to talk to me. His friends did too. They were laughing about something. Her ears perked up, could only hear one repeated word amongst the hubbub: Hogwarts.

The cool red head laughed: "Right under the greasy git's nose, I'm tellin' you, it was easy to get here. Found a great way out of school. I cannot wait to tell my brothers about it." Oh, he had brothers. Maybe he could help her out, no, maybe he hated girls. "Though not my sister, the only female Weasley born for a few centuries," he puffed up proudly, "got to protect her at all costs."

"If she is going to be as cool as you, Bill," said friend number one, "you won't need to protect her."

Protect, she wanted to feel safe. Could she trust this scary looking Bill? Suddenly the red heads joviality left him as he saw two other men walk nearby: "Hello WEASEL," sneered the dark haired one. "Shouldn't you be at school!"

"I ain't breakin' no rules, Dolohov, just hike it!" Bill snarled.

"I always despised you!" the one called Dolohov growled.

Hermione watched fascinated as the two boys thrust thin sticks of wood into each other's faces. All Hermione could think was: They're going to poke someone's eye out, if they're not too careful.

"Oh come on, Bill, he's not worth it mate. Dumbledore would go ape if he found you were using magic underage. Remember, you're not supposed to be here in the first place."

"That's right," Dolohov sneered, "carry on like this and you will end up like your bastard Uncles!"

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest. The dark man seemed to be made of ice, and storm winds, Hermione had never seen a pair of eyes so dark or mesmerizing before. Warily, her wide eyes flittered between red and dark – fire and ice. Surreptitiously, Hermione scuttled further into the crowd, hiding underneath robes and skirts to get away from what she deemed a dangerous situation. This was meant to be a place of safety so she went in pursuit of somewhere safe.

However, that was harder than she thought. Carts of fruit and vegetables wheeled around by – Hermione gasped – they were winged horses – they were beautifully sleek, handsome horses. Oh, she could have squealed if she could. Hermione wanted to stroke and nuzzle into their necks. A place of safety.

Owls swooped and soared holding things that looked like letters in their mouths, with little satchels that tinkled with the sound of coins causing her to spin in a circle on her heel as she followed their flight. Then Hermione's mouth dropped wide open. Well, she sighed, if that is not safe I do not know what is. For she was standing in front of the biggest, most interesting book store she had ever seen! She walked in hesitantly at first in case it did not exist and she was going to wake up. If this was a dream Hermione did not want to wake up.

"I swear, Aggie," she heard a woman say. "Your little boy gets handsomer every time I see him,"

Hermione turned to see a boy her age with blond hair and really friendly blue eyes and she felt even shyer around him than the cool kid. The boy caught her gaze and tugged on his extremely old looking mum's sleeve. Without missing a beat in her conversation with the other lady, she shooed him away, the boy walked up to Hermione getting redder every minute he stepped up to her. He'd never seen her before and, to his amazement, she was not running away from him.

"H-Hi," he stammered, blushing. He thought the girl was pretty before, but close up he was sure she was lovelier than the sun. "My name's Neville, w-what's y-yours?"

Tilting her head and smiling back just as shyly, Hermione dipped her head so her frizzled hair could hide her burning face: "H-hermione," she stammered back. "I've never seen this shop before."

Neville was shocked. No one spoke to him. Especially girls. Rarely pretty girls. Stumped the boy looked around the shop as if trying to find some topic to talk about: "I like plants," he said. "Do you?"

"Animals," Hermione mumbled. "And, books."

No one, aside from Steven, had ever gone out of their way to speak to her.

"Animals are cool too," Neville said hurriedly as he did not wish to offend his new friend. "Books are good as well." He was about to continue when the old woman walked up to them.

"Who's your friend, Neville?"

"Hermione," Neville said. Confident enough to be able to call her a friend. "Can I give her our address so she can owl us?"

Just as Hermione was about to ask by what he meant by Owling, when royal mail was just as good, she heard the five minutes till closing time announcement. Neville was dragged away whilst she found herself pushed suddenly against the bookshelf in the mad rush for the customers to get their purchases and get home. Hermione, realising she had not got any book vouchers, decided to walk out of the shop quietly. Missing the disappointed look on Neville's face when he could not see her any more.

That made the time 5:30pm. As she walked out she noticed a mad dash from all the buildings. The odd place she found herself in seemed to be shutting up for the night. Owls were being sent out by the flock it seemed, and Hermione noticed the darkening sky and the lighting of lamps reminiscent of the one in Narnia – she was still in her Tinkerbell outfit. The early autumnal chill of evening caused her to shiver slightly.

It was not until she heard the clock strike 8pm that she realised the danger she was in. There was a set of steps, much like the ones in Mary Poppins at the bank, and Hermione decided to take shelter against the wall. Sitting there, with her knees up to her chin trying to stave off the tears. Witnessing from her hiding place the place come alive with adults. Obviously ones who had just finished their work. Green robed individuals particularly took her fancy.

Streams of people coming in and out of pubs and restaurants. Some drunkenly swayed with arms around busty, heavily made up women leading their companions to other less religious places. Hermione was clever enough to understand what Nancy did in Oliver Twist was not exactly child friendly, and she adored Nancy. A woman who had little to give but her heart and she offered it all to the wrong man. How Hermione despised Bill Sykes. Come to think of it that cool red head was called Bill.

Rocking herself back and forth, trying to keep warm, Hermione eventually allowed herself to rest.

That was Friday the 19th. The day she turned 6 and was frightened more than she had ever been.

* * *

Saturday the 20th was quite sunny for September but still, the steel grey of Autumn climbed into the atmosphere and now, not only was she frozen but was also hungry. What would Pip or Oliver do in this situation? Steal food! Hermione wondered if she'd be sent straight to hell if she stole some fruit from the cart, surely  _one_  apple would not go amiss on a cart full of them? There, she sighed, there is one. Go on, a voice hissed, you know you have too. What is the worst that could happen to you? Er, she sighed, I could go to prison.

Hermione had no idea of the time now, she had not yet been able to learn by position of the sun. Still, surely her parents would turn up any minute now, the fact that she knew this place meant she must have been here before with her mum and dad. She decided to explore a bit though. She may bump into her parents somewhere. The girls stomach still protested against her mind, it was morals or starvation. There were some choices a six-year-old should not have to make. Still, she thought, that if she was going to die at least hell would be warm.

Stealth was required, Hermione understood that much. So she waited patiently in a dark side alley and watched as the female vendor of the nearest fruit and veg shop walk a few steps to talk to the one next door. A bakery holding all kinds of deliciously scented fresh baked goods. From cottage loaves, to bloomers, and the wonderful nutty brown bread she especially loved with Nutella. So, a feast of bread and fruit it will be. Quietly she crept along, behind other vendors, making it look as if she was going the other way. Then, casually; she crossed the street and sidled down a similar way to the one from whence she came, eventually halting by where the fruit cart was and hurriedly crawled under.

She peeked out from under the fake grass covering. Keeping her gaze to where the owner had her back turned, then slowly sneaked her hand out and up to grab the nearest pieces of fruit she could when; suddenly, she felt a large hand grab and firmly circled her outstretched wrist.

"Tut tut," a voice sneered. Hermione gulped as she angrily crawled out of her hiding place. "Here I thought the days of petty thieving went out with corsets. Now why don't you run along to your parents little girl."

Hermione peered up at the person who had caught her doing wrong. A man who looked to be slightly older than the red headed cool guy peered down at her: "I would if I knew where they were and I knew where I was," she said calmly even though her stomach continued to protest. The bustle of the street could not drown out the noise of hunger. "Been here since yesterday," she sniffed.

"Hmm, you must know where you are, otherwise you would not be here. Ergo, you have been here before, and so have your parents," he snapped, the man clearly had little patience with children.

"Yes thank you," she snapped back, her hunger making her too irritable to be shy. "I worked that part out myself – but I haven't – I would remember that marvellous bookshop and begged to be allowed to live there if I had been here before. I most certainly would have recalled flying horses and owls with things in their beaks."

The man seemed to be just as vexed for his eyes glittered menacingly as he looked down his big nose at her and met her eye for eye: "That is as may be, child, but..."

"Look," she sighed trying to sound like her mother. Taking a deep breath she tried to be patient with him. "I'm lost, I'm scared, I'm hungry and I have no money, what would you suggest I do, Mr Clever?"

The man's lips twitched into an amused smile: "All right," he sighed, "for the sake of argument," he tilted his head, pondering over the sight of this strange child. "Let us say I believe your excuse of finding yourself in a hidden street – in London – and you say you have not been here before then, answer me this, how did you get here?"

Hermione rubbed her stomach now sickening with hunger. The amusement left the man's face as he watched the girl collapse to her knees, clutching hold of her painful stomach. Through her mass of hair she looked up at him with wide brown beseeching eyes: "Please sir," her desperation showed through, "help me."

The man seemed to warm up towards her and knelt down to her level, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder: "I am Professor Snape,  _not_  Mr Clever," she tried to giggle, "what is your name?"

"Hermione," she sighed."I  _am_  telling the truth sir, I really do not know how I got here."

"It's all right, Hermione," the Professor tucked some of her unruly hair behind her ear. "Come on – I will get you something to eat. A bed for the night and I will see what I can do after that as to finding out where you come from. Do you like beef stew?"

Nodding, Hermione kept quiet as Professor Snape effortlessly lifted her up and carried her through the hustle and bustle of the streets. Not caring in the world at the wide eyed, gaping mouths of the crowd. Once they reached The Leaky Cauldron he set her down and called for immediate service. Tom, a hunchback, nodded when he clapped eyes on the waif of a child shivering and pale with hunger.

Two big steaming bowls of chunky beef and onion stew with cheese dumpling topping arrived on the table within minutes. Hermione was given water to drink throughout her meal. Snape watched her guzzle voraciously on the hearty lunch. Once he was sure she had cleaned out the bowl the Professor sat back.

"Hermione is not much for me to go on to help you, I need your surname."

"Granger," she said. "My name is Hermione Jean Granger."

"Granger," Snape rolled her surname around his mouth, he was shocked at seeing one of his future muggleborn pupils. "Miss Granger, do you know where you live?"

"Of course I do," she sighed rolling her eyes. "44 Vine Way, Cheltenham."

"Good, I will see what I can do," he wondered what Dumbledore would have done. "Are you still hungry?"

"Apple and pear crumble and custard would be nice, sir," she said shyly, "but I am sure that is enough. I will pay you back when..."

"No need, little girl," the Professor smiled. Hermione decided then and there that she immediately liked him, "now, I will get dessert and you can tell me more of how you got here."

Suddenly her attitude changed and she began to squirm and fret. Professor Snape watched the atmosphere cool right before his eyes and wondered what she was running from. No, he amended,  _who_ she was running from.

"You promise you won't tell anyone," she whispered.

The dark haired man shook his head: "I am a Master of Secrets, Miss Granger," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes which made her giggle, "I won't tell a soul." Once she did however, the promise could not be kept. What the girl was describing almost made him want to vomit at the mouth: "I will do all I can to help you stay safe. I will pay for a room for you, you are to stay near to The Leaky Cauldron..."

"Cauldron as in Magic?" she smiled and jumped in her seat.

"Cauldron as in, as you say, magic," Professor Snape said with a hint of amusement. He liked this child. She was infectiously wonderful. "Now..."

"I always wanted to do magic!" she rushed out as if confessing this was somehow her secret she had not revealed to anyone. "I bet magic would be amazing to do!"

Tilting his head to the side, Hermione was reminded of a raven, with the way they bob and move their heads. She shrunk into herself as she watched this Professor scrutinize her: "Remember what I said," he continued. "Stay in the Leaky Cauldron, or remain in that wonderful bookshop you told me about. Do not go exploring further than the bookshop – or this area. Tom, the keeper, shall help you in anyway he can."

Dessert arrived then and they both ate in companionable silence. Secretly, Hermione was wishing this man was her father's friend, he was absolutely wonderful and Hermione's little six year old heart beat fast in her chest as she realised how nice he was. When she got older, she promised herself, she'd find this man and repay him for the kindness she had been shown today. Once finished Professor Snape took Hermione's tiny little hand and led her to the barkeeper.

"Hello, little'un," he stooped down to her level. Suddenly, Hermione's timid side came out as she hid herself in Professor Snapes wonderfully smelling, thick black dress thing, clutching onto the fabric for dear life. "Shy one, isn't she. Wadd'ya think? Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff for the little mite?" Tom smiled down at the little girl again. "She's terrified poor thing, have you thought about the Weasley's they can..."

"No," Professor Snape said firmly. "I hope that this issue can be resolved tomorrow but she requires safety and warmth – the Weasley Matriarch would smother her too much, it could terrify her, and you know she gets attached to children, Molly would want to take Hermione in for her own."

Hermione knew what smother meant, and thought of all those Witches in Fairy Stories who lured and killed children. Then again, she thought, if she liked children she may have given Hermione a nice bed. And Weasley; she heard that name before. Charily, she glanced up at Tom who softened his features as he stared at her big brown eyes: "Poor mite, you're doing a good thing, Professor. This way, young Lady, to your chambers. I will get you something suitable to wear too, must be like the arctic tundra wearing that."

Professor Snape chuckled as he took hold of her hand: "Now, Hermione, you will behave for Tom won't you and I should be able to get you home and dry by tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir," she whispered to her new favourite person, then turned to Tom. "Also, thank you to," she lowered her lashes shyly and whispered. "Favourite colours are green and yellow."

"You are most assuredly welcome, little girl," Tom said. "A nice yellow dress or two, yes?"

After that, Hermione spent the rest of the day sleeping, eating and finally able to explore the most marvellous bookshop in the world. The only other thing she did was get fitted for new robes by a wonderful woman called Madam Malkin.

That was Saturday the 20th. The day she met Professor Snape and learned that Magic might just be real and realised that strangers are sometimes better than people her parents knew.

* * *

Sunday the 21st was when something most shocking happened. Hermione had fallen asleep in one of the most squishiest chairs possible with a big book on her lap in the most wonderful book store in the entire world in her new buttercream yellow dress robes. Rudely, she was prodded awake by a pointy faced child with white blond slicked back hair, green robes, (she had learned to call them), and the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen. The boy looked like an angel.

"Mother!" he yelled causing Hermione to wince and cover her ears.

"What is it, darling?"

Hermione sunk further into the cushions trying not to let this most beautiful of women see her. For she was tall, elegant, flowing silken curly blond locks braided at the sides of head joining to make one long plait sitting smartly aligned with her spine. She was wearing the lightest of blue robes they almost looked silver. Her voice made Hermione feel safe.

"Can she be my sister?" the boy pointed at Hermione.

Turning red with embarrassment Hermione was about to protest at this when another person came into view. Regal, handsome, beautiful too in his manly way. Hermione thought of a fairy tale prince and lowered her eyes to the floor where her feet were suddenly the most interesting invention since sliced bread.

"Do not point, Draco, remember your manners," the man scolded his son. Rather unfairly, Hermione thought but her shyness took over again. "Now," the man turned his full attention on Hermione which caused her to squirm and wriggle: "You must be the girl Severus told me about," he whispered as he knelt down to look in her eyes: "I must apologise for my son's behaviour, you see," he said with a sigh. "Draco has always wanted a sister and he tries to steal other people's," this made Hermione smile a little and the man stroked her face tenderly. "Come, Severus has found your parents and they are extremely worried for you."

"They are?" Hermione whispered. "And who is Severus?"

"Of course they are, dear," the woman played with Hermione's hair. "Severus may have introduced himself to you as Professor Snape," immediately Hermione brightened at the name. An action that was not lost on Narcissa. "I am Narcissa Malfoy, this is my husband, Lucius Malfoy, and my son Draco Malfoy."

"H-Hermione," she stuttered. "And thank you, Mr and Mrs Malfoy," she flushed. Draco sulked and pouted.

"I want Hermione for my sister," Draco whinged. Hermione watched his father drag the spoiled boy away.

"What are they saying?" Hermione tilted her head to the side seeing if she could lip read, to her disappointment, she couldn't. "Mrs Malfoy, do you think my parents will hate me?"

"They will be glad to see you – too much so to be angry," Narcissa's eyes warmed as she observed the girl shrink back again. "Hermione, come, take my hand, there are ways to get to places – one which you unwittingly utilised. Now, do not be scared, it is perfectly safe."

Oh this was wonderful, Hermione sighed, it seemed like they were going to do magic together. She had no one to explain her episodes with. Lucius and Draco came back with smiles on their faces.

"Shall we go then?" Lucius asked as he took Hermione's other hand whilst the boy, Draco, completed the circle by standing and holding one each of his hands in his parent's spare ones. "Close your eyes, Hermione."

She did and with a crack found she was home again. Immediately, her mother ran out of the house and picked her daughter up into her arms and wept uncontrollably.

"It is all right, mum," Hermione said, "I went on the most marvellous adventure – here let me introduce you to the Malfoys," in her excitement she missed the pale look her mother offered to Lucius. "Can they come in?" Hermione asked in all innocence.

"Yes," Helen Granger said quietly. "Come in; all of you, and let us talk about what you've been up to for the past two days, young lady!"

Hermione knew she was in trouble. Draco was sulking much too much as he was moaning about why he could not just take Hermione to the Manor and have her as his sister. Both children missing the awkward looks Lucius Malfoy and Helen Granger were giving each other. Narcissa was remarking to herself how nice a home it was for Muggles whilst gently stirring her milk in her tea.

Hermione did not know then, or care, that this was not a reunion after a massively awesome adventure but the start of something infinitely bigger.

* * *

October the 31st of that year she was adopted by the Malfoys. Henceforth, she was now known as Adhara Hermione Malfoy. Draco Lucius Malfoy's big sister! The first few weeks she spent in her new lavish bedroom in tears as she could not help but speculate on why her parents did not want her any more but she got no satisfactory an answer by herself. No one else would tell her what happened to them either.

Her new parents were filthy rich and she had all the horses her heart was set on. Her own mini-pet farm with rabbits, ponies and guinea pigs. Indoor heated swimming pool which she used daily. She found out there really  _were_  flying broomsticks and carpets. Despite this she missed her parents. Not that the Malfoys were not particularly cruel, and at least she would never see Danger Daryl again.

Narcissa was a particularly doting mother. Lavishing all the sort of dresses she wanted; varying shades of greens, yellows, purples, and blues. Lucius was a busy but doting father on his new daughter giving her little trinkets, ribbons and bows to match her dresses, and any pet she set her heart on. But the fact remained. They were  _not_  her parents.

About the only thing that cheered her up was her new younger brother, Draco, who went out of his way to make her smile. Her house elf Dobby who adored her. Most of all, dear Uncle Severus, who indulged her with all sorts of sweet treats her mother would then confiscate and scold the man so for trying to make her daughter fat. Oh being Adhara Hermione Malfoy was not so bad but, she sighed, it was nothing like being Hermione Jean Granger.

Little did she know that in ten years time – her life was about to take a darker turn. For as she grew, the prettier she became. Elegance dictated her stance. Poised in every movement she made. Comportment was beyond compare, graceful movements showed in every toe step she made. No one could doubt her intelligence since she was sorted in Ravenclaw.

Ten years later her new fathers friends turned out scarier than Danger Daryl. First there was her Uncle Rodolphus who made her squirm in her seat with just a smile. Antonin Dolohov; who made no secret of his desire for her, he grew to be dangerous beyond expectations. Rabastan who's light, sea green eyes, shone with lust as he observed her; the list went on.

Then there were her brother's friends, Blaise Zabini who made her feel like a queen at the Yule Ball. Theodore Nott who was the shyest and sweetest. Adrian Pucey, tall, muscular and gorgeous outrageously flirting with her at every opportunity.

Not to mention her own friends. She was not blind to the longing looks Ronald Weasley offered her. Nor was she unaware of how Neville Longbottom stammered around her. Then there was Ernie McMillan and Terence Boot. Oh, Adhara Hermione was not without charms. By her 17th birthday, Lucius Malfoy had to go through many marriage proposals from Pureblood parents wishing to secure her hand, and her dowry, for their own.

One above all else took to her. Red eyed, serpentine, but mesmerizing in his own way. Her heart thumped whenever she thought about him.

Let this story be about Adhara Hermione Malfoy. Doting daughter, clever student, friends with the Boy-Who-Lived but could also understand the Dark Lord's views too.

Adhara Hermione Malfoy's life truly began to be complicated the summer after the Triwizard Tournament when poor Cedric Diggory was murdered by a lowly rat so Harry told it.

The scariest of her whole life was the night she met Lord Voldemort...

* * *

 


	2. The Odd One Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years has come and gone, Adhara is a Ravenclaw - some differences like she is not complete friends with Ron Weasley but some similarities; she does not feel comfortable about House Elf Treatment. She is friends with Harry and Ginny, but she will also hang around with her Slytherin brother's friends too. 
> 
> At least, Lord Voldemort is still gone... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Kiri Ullman for beta'ing this chapter.

 

** The Odd One Out **

****

The young witch trembled all the way home on the Hogwart's Express. She was sitting in her carriage with Terry Boot, he was quietly reading a book whilst she chewed her lower lip staring at the scenery zipping by. Speedily taking her home. Her father had written a letter to her telling her that her mother will be taking both her and Draco to Twilfitt, as they would be expecting an _extremely_ important guest. Butterflies swooped and swirled inside her stomach at the thought of meeting someone so incredibly note-worthy that they had to be in new formal wear by tonight. She lowered her gaze to her hands laying flat, one on top of the other, over her elegant light blue robes that brought out the colour of her eyes. 

“Cho was inconsolable, was she not, Adhara?” Terry asked. 

Adhara glanced at her friend who was gazing sympathetically at her as he heard a rumour her father was there amongst the returned faithful. Tilting her chin up and returning Terry's look back with one of equal sympathy, she straightened out her skirts on her lap offering a small smile.

“She has lost the love of her life, Terrence,” she said calmly, “we should find her and see if she can be comforted at least by our heartfelt condolences.”

Just as Terry stood up and offered his hand to assist Miss Malfoy up the doors to their compartment slid open. It was Ronald Weasley – a cocky grin on his face – as he stepped inside. Without ceremony he slumped in the seat next to her and flung an arm around her shoulder. Unwelcome and gruff, coarse, and ill-behaved, Adhara was not impressed upon this sudden intrusion in her personal space.

“I would appreciate,” she said as she lifted the boy's arm off her person and holding it delicately by the sleeve whilst laying it firmly by his side as she stood up and sat the other side, “that you ask my permission before touching my person,” she was now next to the wall one side and Terry the other. 

Ronald’s reaction was a smirk, patronising tutting and excessively rolling his eyes. 

“Come on, Adhara,” he said. “When you gonna learn to realise we're meant to be?” 

“Ronald Weasley,” Adhara said stiffly sitting straight glaring fiercely into his corn blue eyes, “you and I are not 'meant to be;' you are a jack-a-nape of the highest order, a scruffian, and a Weasley, I would lose the love of my parents if I so much as contemplated stepping out with you.” 

“Stepping out?” Ronald grinned, “what century you from?”

“Get lost Weasley,” Terry snarled, “Miss Malfoy and I were about to show due consideration to Miss Chang over her grief. If you wish to join us in our condolences then, by all means, follow us. If not then you should leave, now!” 

Ronald's expression darkened, a scowl formed on his face as he curled his lip in a snarl: “Oh, sure, I guess Ravenclaw immediately turns her Witches into frigid bitches!” he spat glaring balefully at the pair, “one day, Miss Malfoy will be looking for a bit of rough!” 

The answering punch from Terry's fist caused Hermione to find her wand and she pointed it at Weasley: “I hate to come between a chance for you two to become impaired by testosterone and hormonal imbalances, but I will not permit an imitation public house brawl to be played out before me. Go back to your friend, Weasley, before I show you exactly why Professor Lupin once called me the brightest witch of my age.”

Remembering how she hit his groin with the spine of a particularly heavy book at Christmas, Ronald’s complexion changed hue before their eyes from an indignant red to a shade so pale that one would have to re-categorise white. Clutching his groin to prevent a repeat, Ronald scrambled back on his feet and rushed out of the carriage not looking back.

“Daring, nerve and chivalry my...”

Adhara coughed to stop Terry from uttering a vulgarity she wished not to hear, and he reverted back to being a gentleman. He offered his crooked arm and she slid her hand through the elbow and they walked like that down a few carriages where they found Cho surrounded by girls from various houses, all a year older than Adhara and Terrence. The girls looked up and their eyes widened in disbelief and incredulity.

Cho glanced up puffy-eyed and red-faced from her tears. Adhara Hermione Malfoy was never found to be wanting in any social situation. Immediately she glided elegantly into the carriage, sat next to Cho and patted her hand, not saying a word but conveying from her actions that she was deeply sorry for the older girls loss.

“Wasn't your father there when Cedric was killed?” sniped a particularly spiteful girl. Adhara had never been able to remain calm and stoic in the face of this sour-faced witch. “You probably planned it because you couldn't have him for yourself!”

Terry glared at the Witch. “I'd keep your opinions to yourself you mouthy self-righteous idiot. I am amazed at how someone of your ilk even wound up in Ravenclaw.”

“I was not here to cause a disagreement,” Adhara said, “if Miss Chang wishes, I shall, indeed, leave the compartment and find other companionship. All I desired to accomplish, was to offer my sincere condolences of a fine young Wizard's death. One who had the rest of his life all before him. Miss Chang,” Adhara stood up and curtsied a little. “I am deeply sorry for your loss. If my family can do...”

This seemed to send the sour faced shrew in hysterics: “Your family has done enough, Malfoy!”

Cho sniffed through her tears. Her eyes were red rimmed and sore: “If you can please, leave, Miss Malfoy. I will take your condolences to heart. I would rather no one with a Dark Surname be nearby.”

Adhara sighed. This was one of those awful times when she wished she was back to being plain old Hermione Jean Granger again. She loved her new family though. She had a brother she could boss around but would die and kill for. She also had her Uncle Severus who praised her skills above anyone else's, then again, he taught her since she was seven. Narcissa Malfoy was a wonderful mother – encouraging her in her studies but reminding her to always be well presented. Her father, he was the most indulgent of all. When she heard about the diary incident and how it was before that scuffle that her father slipped young Ginny Weasley that book she punished him for not speaking to him for several weeks. 

Weeks in which he used every Slytherin rich father trick in the book – when nothing worked he pleaded with her for her forgiveness. She shook her head, folded her arms under her chest, stood straight and poised. The hard glare she had learnt from her mother, real and adopted, Lucius paled and quelled until he asked her what it would take to get her to love him again. Adhara smirked a little: “Perhaps a small note of apology,” she said, “along with help for medical bills that she will need for Mind Healing. Oh, and you will also offer to buy ALL THEIR children brand new familiars.”

“What if they say no?”

“I will write my own note stating how sorry you truly are and that all offers are compensatory – not charity. To accept shows dignity.”

“You really think they will...” 

“MOLLY will,” Adhara said. “I heard Percy once complain to Penelope, his girlfriend, that he would become a Ministry member so great he can offer his mother a House Elf. So, offer one from one of our litters. A lower grade Elf that will bond with the family.”

Lucius was madly in love with Adhara as his daughter from that point on. Her suggestions were readily accepted by Molly, especially when the offer of a House Elf was said at the end as the cherry on the cake. That year she got to shop with her Weasley friends, Ron's rat was ill. Adhara was taken by a squashed faced ginger cat by the name of Crookshanks – she later found out that Ron's rat was a Death Eater in disguise, the same Death Eater that killed Cedric. The same that betrayed Harry's parents.

“Do not let things worry you, Miss Malfoy,” Terry said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “The ill-feeling is unwarranted in your case. We all know what a kind person you are. Is it true you helped Luna Lovegood find her items and stopped it happening a year later?” 

“I... yes,” she sniffed. Drawing comfort in her friends arms. 

“Isn't this sweet!” sneered a voice Adhara wished to never hear again. 

“Montague,” she snarled. 

“Damn right,” he flexed his quidditch muscles in an attempt to impress. “Perhaps you should learn to be nice to me, honey,” he said leaning down. “After your father receives my parents letter – you and I will be betrothed forthwith. Adhara Montague has a certain ring to it, right? Enjoy your time hugging nerd, once she's mine no one else can, or will, touch her.”

Terry righted his glasses and scowled deeply at the Slytherin gorilla. His grip ever more protective. His stance fierce as he stood between her and the oaf: “Not if I get there first!”

“You would be the last on the heap of rejections, kid,” Montague snarled. “You are just a nerdy brat. I am from an ancient and powerful house.”

“Is anything the matter here?” a smoother voice entered the scene. Adrian Pucey. The epitome of tall, dark and handsome with a good set of teeth, high cheekbones, and his well-built but not-too-intimidating frame caught Adhara's eye and she immediately preened under his attentions. “Graham, what is going on?”

“Just caught a whelp touching my future bride.”

Adrian arched an eyebrow, but the rest of his features remained blank: “I was not aware there was a romance between you and Miss Malfoy. She holds proper etiquette in all matters – making sure she is in a mixed group so as not to raise her father's ire by being seen with someone undesirable. Miss Malfoy are you in a secret relationship with Mr Montague?” 

“No, Mr Pucey, I am not. Nor am I in one with Mr Boot, he was just consoling me for I was told to leave when offering my condolences to Miss Chang for the loss of her partner.” 

Adrian nodded and regarded the situation from all angles: “You have shown no impropriety,” he said. “Thank you, Mr Boot, for being there when Miss Malfoy needed a consoling arm. Come on Graham.” 

Graham leered at the pair before sloping off after Adrian: “See you later chickadee,” he winked at her.

Adhara and Terry went back to their compartment – where it was soon invaded again by an irate Ginny holding Ronald Weasley's ear: “Apologise,” she snarled. “Do it!”

“What is going on, Ginevra?”

Adhara was the only one allowed to call Ginny by that name: “I managed to coax out of him what happened here, and I wish for him to apologise. If it was not for you, I would not be as sane as I am now. So,” she threw Ron on the floor at Adhara's feet. “Say sorry!” 

“I don't get what I done wrong!” he scowled.

“Do you want a list?” Ginny said sarcastically. “Say. Sorry.”

“Alright, alright,” he said. “I'm sorry Miss Malfoy for treating you like an object.”

“Apology accepted,” she said.

“How are you, Ginevra?”

The red head happily sat next to Hermione whilst Ron rubbed his ear and mumbled under his breath about how little sisters should be banned – that girls were more trouble than they were worth – but he sat in the compartment none the less. Terry Boot was rather good as a Chess Player – so they broke out a set and started playing.

Adhara was decided to bring out her violin and started playing some Tchaikovsky softly and elegantly. Ginny enthralled by how talented the witch opposite her was. She had been in awe of Miss Malfoy since they met on the train the first year. She was lost, and it was Adhara who had redirected her with grace and manners. The girl always knew what to wear, how to wear it, and her flawless features did not even need make up. The only sign of rebellion was Adhara's bushy hair which never could be tamed. 

“That was beautiful,” Ginny breathed.

“Thank you,” Adhara said with a hint of shyness. She did not normally play for an audience, but she was stressed and playing out a few strains of music calmed her agitated spirit. “So, I hear you are trying out for Quidditch next year?” Adhara smiled at the blushing young Gryffindor. 

“I am,” she breathed. “I believe Angelina Johnson will be Team Captain.” 

“That should be good,” Adhara said, though she had no interest in Quidditch, only going to the World Cup because her father and brother were excited about it, she and Narcissa bore the game with quiet grimness of spirit. Yes, it was an event, but it was a fiasco – her father had to rush them all to safety when some of the crowd got drunk and disorderly, causing chaos in their wake. 

She would never forget the sight of trampled tents, crying children lost and alone as their parents were running pell-mell into the fray. Wands lit up with various coloured hexes, jinxes and evil charms. When they got home, it was the first time she had heard her adoptive parents argue passionately about the scene. Her mother was terrified for her children. Her father vehemently denied having any part of the planning of the raid that resulted in death of a Muggle baby. Draco and Adhara wisely tip-toed cautiously around them for a day.

Now she had found out her father was present when Cedric died she felt a little ill. Adhara adored her father so was rather confused as to how her loving, doting patriarch could commit such horrific deeds or be the witness to them. When Ginny had filled her in on how she had started dating Michael Corner, Hermione smiled though she knew it did not reach her eyes. 

“What of you and…” Ginny turned to look at Terry.

“We are just friends,” Hermione said though a slight blush crept along her cheeks when she thought of Adrian Pucey. 

“So why are you blushing, Hermione?”

Ron glanced up, his ears keenly picking at the conversation his sister and her friend was having.

“I do have a crush on someone,” she sighed, “but you would judge me most of all.” 

“Nonsense,” Ginny huffed. “Hermione, please?”

Ginny was the only one who insisted on calling Adhara by her adopted middle name. Everyone else called her Miss Malfoy or Adhara – or just plain Malfoy by uncouth people whom she did not wish to speak to. 

“Adrian Pucey,” she murmured. 

“That SLYTHERIN prat!” Ron exploded. 

“Adrian Pucey is not a prat and being a Slytherin is not a necessary preclusion to dolorous deeds, Mr Weasley,” Adhara said in defence of her brother’s house. “My brother is a Slytheri…”

“Yeah and he’s a prat too.” 

“He is my brother, Mr Weasley, would you wish me to speak ill of your brethren?” 

“Pucey? Is he not a chaser?” 

“Yes,” Adhara whispered blushing. “He is always coming to my defence when I have to put up with the loutish attentions of Graham Montague.” 

Ginny giggled: “I promise we will trounce him next year, Hermione, but I will leave Pucey to your attentions.” 

They were about to go into more girl talk when the door to the compartment opened – Draco had loped in gracefully, his sinuous body and eyes sought those of his sister. Immediately, he broke into a grin. The smile faded however when he spotted Ronald in the compartment with them. He would never understand why his sister insisted on being more than passing acquaintances with him – still, at least the girl had a good head on her shoulders.

“Adhara,” he said. “It is best we change now – mother will be expecting us to be properly attired when she greets us.” 

“I know Draco,” she smiled softly at her brother before turning to Terry and Ron. “Messrs Boot and Weasley, you need to continue your game elsewhere. I need help, Ginevra.”

“Of course,” Ginny grinned.

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

* * *

Narcissa was always the epitome of calm and collected nature, so it surprised her children to see her hair a little out of place, her nails looking like they had been scratching at wood or chewed a little. Her eyes swerved left-to-right furtively. Hoping to not see anyone else at the station. Her hopes were dashed when she saw Remus Lupin standing besides a large black dog

The dog turned its head and glared at her and snarled a little, Remus had to tell the dog to shut up. She was about to turn her head coldly to ignore her cousin, but she found herself rather taken by how noble Remus looked standing tall and straight as a light breeze ruffled his sandy hair. Slowly, Remus turned around and she found herself wishing to make herself look presentable. 

The werewolf visibly sighed and walked over to the witch. He was raised with manners after all, and he liked her daughter enough to blush a little when he remembered her gift to him before he left. It seemed she had brewed his Wolfsbane and managed to keep it under stasis, so it would keep fresh for up to a year.

“Mrs Malfoy,” he said with a slight bow at the waist. 

“Mr Lupin,” she replied coolly. “How do you do?”

“I am well,” he said. Sirius growled by his side and barked trying to nip at her skirts. “How are Master and Miss Malfoy?” 

“I am sure by now they are exhausted. Also, we have a busy evening ahead, they will both be able to completely rest tomorrow.”

She watched with a perfectly arched blonde eyebrow as Remus ruffled in his pockets and, to her amusement he bought out bars of muggle dark chocolate. To her pleasant surprise she noticed the brand was named Green and Blacks.

“So, this is the dark side of chocolate, is it, Mr Lupin?” she asked with a smirk.

He blushed deeply as he offered her two bars. “I was not aware there _was_ a dark side to chocolate, I only know I like this and works to aid me to fight my demons. I fear for your children in the future, please, accept this for them.”

Daintily, Narcissa graciously took the offering and glanced up into his corn flower blue eyes and smiled a little shyly. _No_ , she told herself off sternly, _you are a happily married woman you do not get to act like a giddy teenager with a first crush_. Sirius curled his lip, revealing all his sharp teeth. 

“I thank you, Mr Lupin, I know Adhara will appreciate your gift.”

“Still one of the most exceptional pupils Hogwarts has ever held,” Remus praise tumbled out of his mouth, he was aware he had profusely reddened at the mere thought of kindly Adhara Malfoy. “You must be highly proud of her,” he said scuffing his shoes on the floor. “I wish I had the chance to see her prowess with fourth year Defence.”

“Lucius and I are proud of both of our children, Mr Lupin,” Narcissa said trying not to preen. “Though, we are delighted with how exceptional Adhara is.”

“Yes, though I am sure Adhara’s inner grace makes you…” they both turned to the sound of the train approaching round the bend.

The trail of smoke snaked its way along the carriage rooves in clouds of grey and white steam. Vibrant red paintwork gleamed in the warm late-June glow of the sun. The scent of burning coal reached the waiting and anxious parents. Sirius began barking and leaping, jumping around in excitement wagging his tail and panting. Remus chuckled as he lost all control on ‘Padfoot!’ Narcissa soon regained her cool grandeur – no longer blushing or shy – she now stood elegant and haughty in all her Malfoy glory.

“Well, it seems we must say goodbye,” Remus said tentatively, noticing she had withdrawn in her shell. “I bid you good day, enjoy your Summer with your children.”

“I will, thank you, Mr Lupin,” Narcissa said primly.

The sound of her voice made Sirius remember where he was, and he stopped in mid-jump and growled again at the sharpness and clarity of his cousin’s holier-than-thou Pureblood tone. He had yet to meet this Adhara properly, he resolved to remain on the platform until he had seen her. 

Whatever Remus said in admonishment was cut of by the sound of the weary chug of the train pulling into the station. The wheels screeched to a halt. Billows of steam created a mystic fog that seemed to sparkle and hide what needed to be revealed. Then the driver used his wand to clear the steam to reveal rows upon rows of opening doors, guards wizards whistles, a clear shout of: ‘EVERYBODY OUT!’ 

Platform 9¾ was immediately swamped by trunks, bags, cat boxes, bird cages, hat boxes and feet – oh so many innumerable pairs of feet scampering about as parents tried to find their offspring and take them home. Lots of Muggleborn children were enthusing over what they learned to their sires bemusement. Pride still glinted in their eyes though as their weirdly talented children babbled as they walked through the barrier to their safe, normal world. 

Amongst all this chaos Narcissa’s wide, beautiful smile stretched across her face as she saw her children cut an elegant swathe as the crowd seemed to naturally part to allow them the main thoroughfare as was right for Malfoy children. She tilted her head as she observed how well they had grown. Her moment of joy was to see her daughter lead the ball as a graceful swan on the arm of the well-connected Viktor Krum. Her father had placed an extra stipend in his daughters vault as a reward for her behaviour and good taste in escorts. 

Swiftly, she wrapped an arm around her mother’s waist as Draco hugged her around the neck and they both breathed in her calming lavender and lilac scent. Narcissa kissed them both on the forehead before snapping her fingers. Dobby and Diddy appeared by her side. 

“Dobby, you will take the young Master’s things back to the Manor,” she turned to Diddy just then. “Adhara, darling, I know how you feel but Diddy has specifically requested to be your elf, I am sure I do not need to explain the importance of such a request or stress how important this is to Diddy and your welfare.” 

“Yes mother,” Adhara bowed her head then gazed down to look upon Diddy. 

“I’s Diddy, Miss Malfoy, what can I be’s doing for you?” 

Adhara adored her straight away. The elf had wide, warm blue eyes and quite a clear complexion. She was tiny as her name suggested, she wore a pink pillowcase with her family’s crest over the hearts. The middle cinched in to shape her scrawny waist. Diddy seemed to be rocking on the balls of her feet.

“You may take my bags and familiar and unpack them. I hold the books in Alphabetical order to Author for fiction. By subject order then author alphabetical for nonfiction,” she knelt down to the elf’s level and squeezed Diddy’s shoulder. “Then, you may rest. If a book looks interesting to you, I would like you to read it. I am giving you permission overall to do this.”

“Yes, Miss Malfoy,” Diddy squeaked before picking up all her bags and the cat carrier with a grumpy Crooks displaying his displeasure by slow, calculated flicks of the tail. “I am pleased to serves the Miss Malfoy.”

Adhara straightened up and Narcissa smiled at her daughter, she had treated the elves slightly better since she had adopted the odd bushy-haired girl. The hair was not the problem at first, however, she did not wish to think of how Dumbledore turned up suddenly on her doorstep and tried to reason with a six-year-old to go back to her birth parents. Lucius had to be restrained from hexing the old bastard. 

Whilst Adhara was kneeling down and asking her elf to order her books for her, Sirius Black sniffed the air around her and tilted his doggy head to his side. She did not smell like she was Lucius and Narcissa’s child. Yet, Narcissa seemed to be overly fond of her like she had something done to her. He would make it a point to ask Remus the story behind the cousin he had not recollection of. One that had not appeared on the Black tapestry. 

“That’s enough Pads,” he heard the voice of his godson. “Adhara might be a Malfoy but she’s nice. She is a Ravenclaw.”

The Malfoy’s were fine with one of their children as a Ravenclaw? Allowed their daughter to be friends with his godson…something was not adding up in his mind and he decided to walk over to the trio. Sure, he mused as he glanced at her hair, she had the colouring of a Black – had Bellatrix a secret daughter no one knew about except for Narcissa? No, if Bella had, the name would have appeared on the family tree. Not that he made an extensive study of the damned thing. 

She turned around and saw him watching her with curious, black eyes and she smiled and knelt down. Cautiously, she reached out and started to lightly scratch behind his ear. He leaned into her hand and was assaulted by her scent. The girl started to add pressure and massaged both ears at the same time. Hazel eyes dancing in the light of the sun with mischief and energy. Sirius wanted to like her but found it difficult because there was something off about the whole situation.

“Adhara,” Narcissa snapped as she physically pulled her daughter away from the dog. “What have I told you about touching strange dogs?” 

“I am sorry mother,” Adhara said truly contrite. “His hair just looked silky. Like Uncle Severus; you know how much I like being able to touch his hair.”

Sirius huffed derisively at the mere thought of having something in common with that greaseball. 

“Severus still has not forgiven you for braiding his hair as a little girl.” 

“I did make sure he had Slytherin colours,” she said cheekily. 

Now Sirius was back to almost liking her again as the image of _Snivellus_ sat ramrod straight in a chair in a girls room with braids in his hair finished off by green and silver ribbons.

“How do you get to have Uncle Severus wrapped around your finger, dear sister?” 

“He just remembers the sight of me shivering on Diagon Alley streets starving and scared and he does what I want him to,” she grinned back.

If dogs could scowl he would, however, Sirius had to be content with a disapproving huff. The idea of this small witch able to wrap Snivellus around her elegant digits, made him want to laugh and frown at the same time. Also, why was she starving on the streets of Diagon Alley if she was born a Malfoy? 

“Pads, we have to go,” he heard Harry’s voice urging him to walk through the barrier with him. “I know Adhara’s lovely but come on,” Harry shook his head and Hermione glanced up at her brother-by-choice and smiled: “Have a good holiday, Adhara,” he said. 

“You too, Harry,” she said back.

Harry’s expression darkened: “Huh, I doubt it, my relatives are bound to find something wrong with everything I do.”

“Can Harry stay with us sometime, mother?” Adhara asked her mother.

“I am afraid that will not be possible this summer, darling, now come on you two we have dallied enough here…” 

The moment she said that Lucius appeared and swaggered – he made a beeline to his daughter and made sure she was decently covered. He swerved a haughty look above the crowd. The children were his pride and joy, he was especially fond of Adhara. Also, extremely protective, he was already starting to receive petitions for her hand. There was no way in hell he’d allow his princess to go to a thug like Graham Montague. There were more unsavoury matches suggested also. He glanced around the crowd sneering at any of the boys who dared glance his daughter’s way.

“I will side-along Adhara, you Draco,” Narcissa said. “We need to hurry to make ourselves presentable.” 

“Of course, Narcissa,” he said as took his son’s hand. The man nodded curtly at the boy and they left. 

“Adhara,” Narcissa smiled warmly. “I know we refuse your friend coming over for summer holidays but there is a reason. One, I hope, you grow to understand in time.” 

“Yes mother,” Adhara said. 

“Good, now come,” Narcissa wrapped her arms around Adhara’s shoulders and they left with a crack. 

The children offered looks of equal annoyance as they entered Twilfitt and Tattings. Both nervous over the suspected guest. Lucius smiled warmly at the sight of his wife and adopted daughter in a beautiful, tender hug. Narcissa swept aside Adhara’s glossy locks and they both cuddled in a brave gesture of public display of affection. _No doubt about it_ , he mused as he tapped his walking cane along the cobble paving below his feet, _since Adhara has come into our lives, we have all felt a warmth in our hearts. She is our happiness_. 

The two women entered shortly after he stood guard outside the door, leaning against the frame in a semi-threatening manner. His greatest treasures were inside that shop – ones that could not be locked up or protected – by Goblins. He’d do anything to keep his family together. 

He let his wife know money was no matter. He wanted his children attired in splendour. Adhara should be dripping with jewels. Unworthy ones should kiss her feet. They guarded their precious ones zealously, in Lucius case, possessively in regard to his wife and daughter. He remembered how she came to be in their lives and was sickened to discover what had happened to her under her parent’s care. He was also shocked to discover who the stray’s mother was.

Only the other day he’d received another letter, delivered by muggle mail through magical means, from her birth parents begging to be reunited with their daughter. Lucius knew he would have to do something about that. What, though, he had no idea! Adhara may soon be of the age of consent in the Muggle world but she lived under Wizard law. He did not know why he was scared of the idea of Adhara meeting her real parents after so long, but something told him that she’d try and share her heart between them – Lucius was not accustomed to sharing and loathed the thought of having to share Adhara’s attentions. He was selfish, he admitted that, but he had managed to protect her far better than those _muggles_ did. 

The Malfoy men were known to always keep their friends close, their enemies closer but their wives and children in their hearts.

 


	3. A Lordly Greeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione want to relax when they arrive home but their new guest -the Dark Lord - sets about charming Hermione to his side. She is easy after all, all girls like to be told they are pretty and have their usefulness due to their innate ruthlessness and anyone is putty in his hands.
> 
> They decide to work on the Pro Patria Family bonding. A bonding that can take up a whole day.
> 
> Also, due to hearing her mumble Adrian Pucey's name in her sleep, he vowed by whatever means necessary, he shall be back to his usual handsome self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning** : **This story will contain marriage bartering, sexual innuendo's, adultery and all sorts of shenanigans. After this chapter there will be another time jump to just before Christmas break.**

**AN: I am unaware of any fortune so therefore I cannot own these characters. Except Lucius can be mine, can't he?**

* * *

**Joely Richardson -** _Narcissa Malfoy_

**Ben Kingsley -** _Lord Voldemort_

* * *

 

**In Good Faith**

**A Lordly Greeting**

By the time Lucius and Narcissa were satisfied that their children looked their absolute best did they leave Twilfitt and Tattings – still Draco and Adhara had no idea what was special about this home-coming and neither had dared to speculate. The girl was suspicious and hated where her theories led her. Her brother kept quiet and strode by their father trying to copy Lucius stance, elegant gait, and confidence. She was too concerned to emulate Narcissa, but she still managed to keep in stride as well as her dark contemplations.

"Anything the matter, darling?" Narcissa asked as she held her daughter's hand. "You have a smile and a glow I have not seen on you before."

"She has a few admirers," Draco muttered. None of them was right for his sister, "Graham Montague has to be constantly prised away from her by Adrian Pucey. Weasley Junior drools around her and follows her like a lost puppy – Viktor Krum would never shut up about how beautiful she was in his arms and he had yet to meet a witch like her. If that is not bad enough she receives some odd mail that I instantly know is from someone she despises because her complexion alters completely."

"Well, we can discuss this later," Narcissa sighed as they reached the floo of the Leaky Cauldron and, after Lucius deposited 18 sickles into the collection bowl, he took a pinch of Floo powder and walked in the wide hearth with Draco following. In a clear understated voice, Lucius called out where he desired to go. Shortly, Narcissa did the same with Adhara, soon the ladies tumbled out of the grate with both husband and brother bent down at the waist, hands outstretched to help them up. In one graceful movement, the ladies were on their feet. Lucius then cast cleansing charms on all his family. Narcissa returned the favour for her husband.

"Now children," Narcissa said, Adhara seemed to hear a slight quiver of fear in her mother's voice. "Why do you not go upstairs and prepare for dinner and our special guest," she suggested worry etched on her tones as deeply as the family motto above the lintel of the door of the Manor. "You had best tell the elves to make certain you both look exquisite."

"Must be important," Draco muttered taking his sister's hand in his as they walked their way to the East Wing of the Manor.

"Do you think it could be the Minister, Draco?" she wondered.

"The Minister has dined with us several times and we have not been given specific orders to 'look exquisite!' before, Addie."

"True," Hermione whispered.

Neither realised they were being secretly watched by a pair of red glowing eyes – Adhara was especially scrutinised by the eager, almost hungry, expression on his face and neither heard the deep mendacious chuckle that accompanied the gaunt pale visage of the man they were soon to call:  _My Lord!_

**Grimmauld Place**

"You did not think to  _tell_  me at  _any_  time this year that my cousin had a  _daughter_?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Remus sighed already annoyed by the new arrangement Dumbledore had set up surreptitiously rolling his eyes. "I am not certain of the full and true account, but I do know these facts: She is muggleborn. She apparated to Diagon Alley at six years of age despite never having been there. She was adopted by the Malfoys…"

"ADOPTED  _AND_  MUGGLEBORN?" Sirius roared. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ELSE HAS HAPPENED? HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD WHILST I WAS FALSELY IMPRISONED?"

"Stop shouting, Sirius," Remus said tenderly massaging his temples. Exasperation at his best friend's ranting and lack of fresh air were starting to give him a headache. "The only other fact I know is that she is a particular favourite of Snape's."

It seemed Sirius had ignored the last part for which Remus was entirely thankful: "Now HE has come back, what do we do, bust her out of there or…"

"That won't work."

Sirius wuffed in displeasure as he would in dog form: "What is to stop us… the girl has clearly been exposed to too much dark magic. I could scent it on her! We know Lucius and Narcissa would have tried turning her the  _moment_  she stepped in their Manor and they probably killed and hidden her  _real_  parents from view. The fact that she is not on the tapestry proves they have yet to blood adopt her – we can still rescue her. Why has Dumbledore not…"

"Because Dumbledore's chief concern is Harry and it  _always_  has been," Remus said trying to calm his impulsive friend down. "She likes Harry if that is any consolation to you."

"Oh; that's another thing," the once roguish wizard snarled.

"What is?" Remus hated what was coming.

"That – that gooey eyed, ' _Here's dark chocolate for your children!_ '" Sirius air quoted. Only to then go into one of his famous performances of old, Black comically batted his eyelashes and raised his hand in a rather faux feminine gesture preparing to collapse into a pretend swoon: " _Oh, I wasn't aware there was a dark side to chocolate Mr Lupin!_  What were you thinking?  _Flirting_  and with Narcissa? she may not have taken the Mark, but she is still as bigoted as they come!"

"I was only trying to be courteous – Sirius – you should try it sometime!"

Sirius growled, kicked Kreacher's knees on his way out of the kitchen and stormed up the stairs. Much like a teenager having a row with his parents – which he frequently did. The werewolf winced, as his friend slammed the door shut to his childhood bedroom, leaving  _him_  in the awkward position of having to apologise to the surly elf.

One who had heard every single word of his ' _Master's_ ' disrespect to Miss Adhara Malfoy. All the times he had met her she was nothing but the soul of congeniality and, even if she  _was_  a Muggleborn, he felt as if he had a little part of Regulus back when he was near her, thus she was liked by him.

In the same token, Walburga also liked her adoptive grand-niece. The girl was well-mannered and full of interesting lore on the history of Purity. They met before she died and Walburga was immediately charmed by how the young lady comported herself through the house. Laughing at the perfect imitation Adhara used to do of her mother at the tender age of 8.

Kreacher muttered and mumbled starkly to himself – Mrs Malfoy had better be informed of what the knave decided to do. It would be simple courtesy to his true Mistress and loyalty to Missy Adhara.

Remus did not manage to hear Kreacher's incoherent mumblings otherwise he too would have alerted someone. Although he still disliked the fellow, Remus did admit that Severus Snape, for whatever reason, genuinely felt a familial bond with Miss Malfoy.

Unknowingly both elf and werewolf were of one mind: Miss Adhara Malfoy must not be taken away from another home within living memory, both were certain that would destroy her spirit. Despite who they were, Remus considered them to be points in their favour that the Malfoys had not mistreated the girl, instead they spoiled her rotten.

If it could be guaranteed all muggleborns could be as well treated as she is, then he would make a motion that the order carry this out based on the success of Miss Adhara Malfoy. Yet she was just paper adopted, it was a shame, it would hold more weight politically were she to become blood adopted.

Even that would be a heavy burden for her to bear: a poster child for a political campaign, just like poor Harry.  _No_ , Remus sighed, she does not need that pressure along with her upcoming O.W.L.S. She was also likely to become a Prefect too, so Remus decided to keep quiet.

A decision he would come to regret later!

**Malfoy Manor**

The two children were now elegantly perched on the mint green silk covered love-seat in the second dining room. Nervously anticipating who the new visitor could possibly be. Draco was wearing dark green silk and crushed velvet robes in silver. Their adopted daughter was primly arraigned in light blue silk robes, nude sheer stockings and two-inch sandals in the same fabric as her skirts, her hair was charmed to tight ringlets framing her innocent face. Narcissa leaned over to cover Adhara's shaking hands that were joined and resting on her lap.

Jinxy popped in: "Masters distinguished visitor is approaching. Shall Masters requesting anything?"

"A spot of chamomile tea please," Hermione sighed.

"One of your brilliant coffee's please," Draco responded.

The elf glanced at Lucius and Narcissa: Mistress asked for a long glass of iced lemon tea and Lucius requested a tumbler of his favourite fire whiskey.

"Certainly Masters and Mistresses," Jinxy bowed deeply as he edged out of the door.

"Jinxy; what has our guest requested?" Lucius asked.

"He asks for whatevers Missy Adhara is wanting," Jinxy spoke querulously.

The young lady in question twisted her neck gracefully towards her mother. Silently asking her with wide-eyes if this guest was someone they were hoping she would like. Poised and elegant Narcissa subtly shook her head in a firm no; Lucius walked up to his daughter and tilted her chin up and smiled down on her, his eyes sparkling joyful pride. It seemed she had already impressed their distinguished figurehead.

"Father," she said in delicate soft tones. "When are we to be introduced to our guest?"

"Soon," he replied. "He asked to meet as soon as refreshments have arrived."

"What is with all the secrecy, papa?" Adhara asked sweetly.

"He has requested he reveal himself that is all, my lovely daughter," Narcissa said in reply. "Now, was your journey home kind?"

"I tried to condole Miss Chang of her loss," Adhara replied softly, squirming in her seat as she did so. Her head bowed in a moments reflection. "I was offered vile poison for my trouble."

Neither child saw how their father fidgeted inside his robes, consternation took over his countenance as he twiddled with his rings on his fingers to hide his discomfort. However, Narcissa smiled a little at her daughter, gently reaching over to pat her on her arm in quiet approval.

"Potter and his side-kick made sure to bump me against the wall and I was spat on a few times by others!" Draco mumbled. His churlish display caused his father to hit his slouching feet with his cane. "Sorry father," the boy soon straightened up in the pose of a young gentleman.

"The youngest Mr Weasley tried to ask me to accompany him to Hogsmeade again and slung an arm around my shoulders – Mr Boot was there to diffuse the situation and Miss Weasley then forced her brother to apologise for being uncouth – Mr Montague also tried to kiss me, but Mr Pucey was there to save me."

Only Narcissa caught the faint tinge of red staining her daughter's cheeks as she mentioned the tall, handsome, Adrian Pucey. Narcissa was pleased with her daughter's good taste. Ravenclaw she may be but her taste in potential husbands was definitely Slytherin.

"Well, it seems Miss Weasley is more Prewitt than Weasley. It is a shame that a once fine witch that Molly was had to degrade her status by marrying that oaf!"

"Father," Adhara admonished gently. "Mr Weasley is a perfectly capable wizard and his children is definitive proof of his power."

"Any magical strength they possess are through the Prewitt lines I assure you, Adhara," Lucius smiled indulgently at his gorgeous child. "I went to school with Gideon Prewitt and he was extraordinarily talented."

It was then Adhara caught a flash of pain in Narcissa's eyes. Did her mother once have feelings…or…?

The young witch had no time to contemplate this new discovery for Jangles – Jinxy's mate – popped in with a tray filled with drinks in one hand and a procession of four three-tiered platters filled with a variety of finger sandwiches, mini-pork pies, quiches, and a selections of cheeses and freshly made savoury biscuits on two of them. The other two were piled with vanilla and chocolate Battenburg, tiny individual cheesecakes, lemon meringue pies, hot buttered teacakes and a checkerboard of colourful cupcakes of different flavours and pastel coloured icing. Truly, Adhara sighed, the elves outdid themselves.

Once the drinks were distributed with one left on the silver tray did Jinxy make an appearance: "The visitor bes coming now!"

"That is good Jinxy," Lucius said with a tilt of his head. The  _guest_  always sat in the head of the house seat when he was present. Narcissa sat beside her daughter so her husband could sit down. "Now," Lucius straightened his trousers, sat up straight, laid his cane across his thighs and steepled his fingers pressing the tips against his lips. "I feel I need not reiterate how important first impressions are. One must remember who you are – Draco sit up straight! Adhara, whilst I think it is adorable do not nibble your lower lips as you are prone to do when nervous. Hold your heads up, chin level to the floor. Everything must be just so…" he was about to say more when Jinxy returned.

"The Dark Lord," he uttered, his entire body quivering with either fear or excitement Adhara knew not which, "is here!"

With that, the temperature of the room lowered considerably as he strode in the door as if he owned Malfoy Manor and elegantly glided into the empty seat mirroring Lucius who was just a few feet in front of him.

"Hmm," he said as he appraised the room with keen red eyes. They stopped when Adhara was in sight and he narrowed his gaze: "I was not aware you had a daughter, Lucius."

"A-adopted, my Lord!"

"You already had a child," he indicated Draco. "So why adopt? Was she an orphan?"

"No, My Lord, her parents are still alive."

The Dark Lord said nothing to this and his eyes wandered over to Draco: "You must have been inconvenienced by the interloper, as a young boy unused to sharing?"

"Sir, I desired a sister and she was perfect."

"What was your name before adoption, Miss Malfoy?"

"Hermione, sir, Hermione Jean Granger."

" _Dagworth_ -Granger?"

"No, sir," she sighed. "Grangers of Cheltenham."

"Cheltenham Grangers – interesting," he took a sip of his drink which happened to be her drink too. "So,  _muggles_ , then?"

"Yes sir," Adhara whispered shyly. "I am from humble Muggle stock."

It was then their guest conjured a chair directly opposite him: "Come here, Miss Malfoy" he said coldly.

Draco felt a cool gust of fear breeze through him at this. It seemed the Dark Lord wished to interrogate his sister. The food was left forgotten. Extreme tension suffused the atmosphere oppressively keeping away the pangs of hunger as all eyes were on the poor trembling young witch rising from her chair, escaping the scant protection her mother offered in her gentle embrace. The family watched as she slowly and carefully made her way to the comfortable looking seat that would ensure she was almost knee-to-knee with  _him_. Tentatively she gathered her skirts and slowly lowered herself on one knee in a curtsey before she took the seat. It was a gesture that had certainly pleased her father. She tried to remember not to fiddle her fingers into her lap, or worry her lower lip, or stutter in front of this commanding presence in their midst sitting across from the Darkest wizard since Gellert Grindelwald.

"Now, I am going to ask you a series of questions and I demand to hear the truth to all of them, understand?"

"Yes sir," she said sitting ramrod straight against the back of the chair.

"Good. Now, when were you born?"

"September 19th 1979."

"Hmm, not too far of Draco's conception especially if he was born early," he mused. His blank expression revealed nothing of his thought processes. "Where were you born?"

"Gloucester Royal Hospital."

"So you come from the next-door county – what are your origins?"

"My mother on my father's side was Greek and his father was French. They met in 1946. My mother never truly told me her story. Further back I believe my ancestors must have tended estates – my parents became Dentists."

"Your first expression of magic?"

"Bluebell like flames in the palm of my hands in living memory – my parents found me hovering above my crib frequently as a baby, an irony really."

"Why?"

"I am scared of flying now."

"Maybe you need to be taught a different method of flight to thoroughly enjoy it," his lips curved in a sensual smirk. An expression Adhara was both intrigued and disgusted by. "Now – I need to find out – who introduced you to the Malfoys?"

"That is a long story, sir," she squirmed in her seat. No one at school knew what truly happened – the official story went with a singular experiment the Ministry thought to try but forgotten about since. "May I please refrain from…"

This was the moment he rose from his seat; standing tall, his mendacious aura darkened the room.

"I was under the impression you promised to hide  _nothing_  from me," he sneered down at the now quivering teen girl. "Ravenclaws are purported to be smart are they not?"

"I am top of my year," Adhara whimpered as she shrank back down into the chair now wondering if she was meant to die. "P-please d-do n-not m-make m-me t-tell!"

"Why should I not know?"

"She still receives night terrors, my Lord," Narcissa gripped the arm of the sofa so tightly her knuckles turned white. "It was traumatic."

"I  _am_  Night Terror's – I  _am_  Trauma!"

"Please do not…"

"I demand to know who it  _is_  that has purportedly made you  _constantly_  restless at night and why you are  _still_  afraid."

"My Lord, please, this is sensitive to our daughter – she has…"

"Is a little understanding too much to ask for?" Voldemort hissed in return. "You will tell me the  _exact_  manner of your appearance and introduction to the Manor. I want to know the  _precise_  reason you are here!" he snarled at Hermione. "What made little Hermione Jean Granger become Adhara M…"

"Hermione, sir," Draco supplied in an effort to diffuse the situation. "Her full name here is Adhara Pavona Ophiucha Talitha Hermione Electra Malfoy."

"Apothem – the straight-line divides triangular shapes?"

Adhara offered their visitor a meek little smile: "I knew that sir," she said in a husky tone that, for some reason, seemed to excite him.

"So, you have a new identity. Please, Miss Malfoy, I am sure that whatever this muggle did to you I shall take your vengeance for my own. Tell me, please…"

He did not seem as terrible as Harry told her he was. In fact, he seemed to care about things deeply.

> _Her grandmother once said that Anger and Passion are often a trip over the wire away. Cut the wire and one has two choices – fight or make love – at this Maria Granger chuckled dirtily: "Of course," she winked as she stage-whispered, "I always chose passion over anger and made love – it is the fire in the bedroom that should never be put out!"_
> 
> _Hermione giggled but got weird looks when her Muggle primary school teacher heard that as her answer to the question of how the Round Heads and Cavaliers should have resolved the British civil war. The teacher explained in private that while the sentiment behind making love not war is admirable – she doubted_
> 
> _That King Charles the First should have slept with Oliver Cromwell!_
> 
> " _Why?" Hermione asked, her earnest tiny face surrounded by a cloud of curls, her wide brown eyes discerning nothing wrong. "My gran says it's the best way to settle scores…"_
> 
> _The teacher offered her odd student a weak smile gave her a biscuit and flopped down in her chair before gazing up and peeking her eyes through the gaps in her fingers: "Miss Granger's grandmother is going to be the death of me!" she sighed._
> 
> _Later Hermione was severely angry, her parents had explained to their child that nana Ria is not the best person to seek advice on homework on. She had been suspended Library privileges the coming weekend which caused a whirlwind tantrum where she accidentally set her bed on fire. That was not the best day of her life._

"Please, Miss Malfoy, my own straight line – do tell me your sad story of muggle negligence."

Slowly awakening from the little foggy trip into the recesses of her mind her gaze slowly landed on the Dark Lord as he held her chin in his vice-like grip, as his thumb seemed to be examining the structure of her jaw.

What did she have to lose? Except for her friends and pride. If word leaked somehow, it would probably rain a hailstorm upon her already dodgy reputation that – thanks to that Skeeter bitch – happened to already have seeded and taken root that, despite her father's and Harry's statements combined, were still taken as facts. This would only water and encourage little tongue-shaped leaves to hiss salacious rumour for her to happily sketch out for the weak minded, suspicious, speculative, public.

"Daryll Stubbs!" she shouted due to fear. Her heart pounding and punishing her chest making sure her ears were filled with the beat of self-loathing. "Daryll Stubbs, sir, he was the one who led me to all this but please, do not make me tell you how. Even Dumbledore does not know!"

The Dark Lord stopped in his tracks as he was circulating her this entire time which added to her own. Stubbs was a surname he had never been able to forget. "S.T.U.B.B.S?" he asked.

Pitiful little sobs threatened to escape her as he broke her down back to how she was at ten. Inside, Narcissa was  _seething_ , this girl had gone through enough without their master making life difficult for her but, she sighed observing the scene around her, that is what Dumbledore says is HIS strength. The frightening capacity he held to instantly divide a room had always unsettled Narcissa. None more so than today when this tactic was already working. Lucius was stroking the glinting shiny snake's head that adorned the top of his wand clearly thinking through the interrogation. If he was not absolutely terrified he would have to find a way to kill their visitor. Then again, if the Potter child, who is somehow supposed to have that dubious honour, cannot even physically touch their Master how was Lucius supposed to kill him? Not to mention that the Master's blood would seep into the wood-work and remain Manor décor until the end of time.

No, that was too messy, how could he help keep his daughter away from the Dark Lord when he could see she was already looking upon him with raw hope that everything was going to be all right.

Finally, Draco hated the idea that his sister was under such scrutiny.

"This is the reason why you accepted a mudblood in the home? A  _muggle_ frightened her?" he sneered at Lucius who was glancing at his wife for strength and moral support. "Lucius?"

"My Lord," he gulped. "At six she managed to Apparate to Diagon Alley without ever having been there. She had to spend the night on the street in, what can only be called a  _handkerchief_  wrapped around her body. She had to  _steal_  from the fruit carts to eat. Severus found her and kept her safe. He told us about her – We found her in Flourish and Blotts dressed in robes, curled up with a book. Our mutual friend found where her parents lived, and we discovered that her biological father's best friend was Daryll Stubbs – a man who attempted to – physically harm her."

"In what manner?" he asked coldly.

Adhara squirmed in her seat as she felt the full force of the red-eyed glare: "S-sexually, sir," she whispered.

The one her father was quivering in front of remaining silent. His long, skeletal fingers drumming on the large oak table that had seen better days. This was, after all, the second dining room. His pale, bald head tilted in heavy contemplation. Eventually, he sighed and looked into her warm, sad, woeful eyes again.

"You are aware of the privilege afforded you by being adopted by such a fine, noble family?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

"You comport yourself in the manner of a Malfoy?"

"My Lord, she is our daughter!" Narcissa exclaimed passionately. She elegantly curtsied in front of him.

The Dark Lord rose from his seat still fixed on Adhara's eyes. He swept past Lucius ignoring his trembling form, and avoided Narcissa, to reach the frightened teen quivering in her seat. Her hands clutched tight on the arms, her knuckles were white with terror, her breathing was fast, and he could hear her panting. The girl was petrified by his presence.

Behind him, Narcissa and Lucius were now back to their full regal heights – Draco was in the shadows waiting – he was prepared that minute to send for help if his sister required it. However, what Voldemort did next was somewhat surprising. He knelt down in front of her, taking note of her panic.

"It is all right," he murmured. To prove it, he raised one of his hands to brush aside a curl and tucked it behind her ear. "Yes, you are originally muggleborn but when wizards adopt they do so thoroughly. Your name is not on the family tree, which leads me to suggest that Lucius and Narcissa have yet to take this step with you. I wonder why they had not yet taken this route."

"Perhaps they were waiting for your permission, sir, you seem to command their love and respect."

Only Draco witnessed Lucius' draw in a sharp breath at this. How could Adhara have possibly known this?

"They are indeed right to do so," he said. "What was the name once again, I wish to see if suspicion is true."

"Daryll Stubbs, sir."

"This man sexually abused you?"

"He tried to, sir, but as I said – one day I was so frightened I apparated to Diagon Alley."

"What house are you in again?"

"Ravenclaw, sir."

"I wish for you to call me, my Lord, Miss Malfoy."

Adhara raised her gaze towards her adopted parents and Lucius gave a slight incline of the head to show this was the approved manner of greeting.

"My Lord," she whispered.

"I have to say, you do bear  _more than_  a passing resemblance to the Black family, so you are not  _wholly_  misplaced. Tell me, my dear witch, one scholar to another – Is Muggle Studies necessary?" Adhara swallowed down some saliva and her body was shaking visibly in his presence. He moved closer to her and took her hand: "Calm down, Miss Malfoy I am not angry. I approve. You obviously do truly belong with the Malfoy family because the house  _itself_  accepts you."

"Yes, si…My Lord," there was a quaver in her voice.

The Dark Lord sighed, smiled in a grotesque effort of compassion, and leaned into her body. She willed herself not to shrink into the upholstery and whimpered a little when his cold lips pressed into her delicate forehead.

"Now, to business – we must first truly adopt her, so she is without question, yours," Voldemort ordered. "No longer shall we refer to her past – let me think which ritual would be best to bind her to your family…" he paced up and down in front of their large fireplace worrying the carpet with his almost footless strides. "Think," he said aloud. "Aha!" he stopped. The red eyes twin sparks of blood-red flame flared along with his non-existent nostrils: "The Pro Patria Formula – the most binding of all."

"After dinner and tea of course?" Narcissa suggested.

"A full stomach is required. The ritual does order the recipient to eat so go on," Lucius butted in remembering.

Later, whilst alone in the Library Adhara was researching blood bindings. She scratched the back of her head as if the act would bring forth what it could possibly entail. After the fifth book, she almost gave up: "Pro Patria," she mumbled, "so binding it's hidden!" she muttered.

Suddenly the formula's title sprang on the page! Ironically, on the three hundred and ninety-fourth page – there it was in stark black and white cursive script for the ritual and the potion and promptly…

Fainted!

HE found her moments later – he physically lifted her up and carried her bridal style to what he knew to be her room. Quietly, HE laid her on her bed where the rays of the moon washed her face in an lambent glow.

"Sleep well, Princess," he whispered against her peaceful countenance. "Tomorrow is going to be gruelling for all of us!"

He watched her as she turned around, tucking her hand underneath her cheek between her pillow and curled up sleeping sweetly in the clear lunar light.

"Adrian," she sighed in her sleep.

Immediately HE grew jealous of the boy occupying her dreams and vowed that night to find a potion or a spell that would reverse the snake-like features, so she could instead fondly whisper HIS name to the moon.

"We will see Princess, we will see!"

* * *

**AN: Guess who commits adultery first? lol. Coming up, meet the rest of the family**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Guess who commits adultery first? lol. Coming up, meet the rest of the family. Hermione is in for some soft and smooth to passionate and angry rides of her life

**Author's Note:**

> The story from now on, will start from the night of Voldemort's return but there will be flashbacks to previous years. Also, I will try not to make this a Snamione... it will be very hard for me not too, but I am sure my beta,  **Vino Amore** , will slap me if I went there...


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